Join Me
by akuoni
Summary: Before the war, Germany approached him, asking him to join. He didn't want to. Too bad Germany doesn't take no for an answer.
1. Whipping

He was hungry and he hurt. How long had it been since the sun warmed his bone-white skin? How long had it been since he rejected his brother's requests? How long had it been since he had been overpowered by a man in black and choked into oblivion? Shivers wracked his frame as he coughed wetly. Weakly. He hated weakness.

"Brother…" The voice was soft, plaintive. He looked up dully, grey hair limp and oily. Purple rings dotted his body as he stared up at the man apathetically. The man didn't balk. He had taught the man everything after all. Perhaps too well, "Brother… Please. Join me. I will make you great."

"No… I do not know you. My brother is gone." The man recoiled at that, but recovered. A sad expression crossed the man's face as he approached the pale-skinned prisoner, "Go away."

"But I love you brother. " He recoiled from the man. This was not his brother. He may have the same face and the same voice, but he was not that beloved baby brother anymore. The man looked hurt at his rejection, but that didn't stop him from capturing the captive's wrist in a painful grip. Five more rings were added to the collection as the man's grip tightened and he pulled the weak prisoner close, "I want you to see what I am doing is best for you."

"I am my own nation. You imprisoned me. I want to go home." He spoke calmly, pulling futilely against the strong hold of his captor. A hand shot up, making him recoil fearfully but, instead of striking him, it simply patted his scruffy hair like he was a small child, "Leave me alone."

"You just don't understand brother." The man frowned, a slight downquirk of the lips. His fingers tightened, pulling at the hair on his captive's head violently, "I want you to join me. You will or I will have to make you."

"You're not my brother." He hissed, pained and angry. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as he was pushed backward. His head ached from being tugged on but he struggled anyways. He would not give in just because he was being hurt, "I won't join you."

"You don't have a choice." He let go of the oily strands and pushed lightly, the captive's eyes widening in surprise as he fell back onto the rough cot that made up his bed. The man captured his hands and pinned them over his head while his free hand came up to grasp his captive's throat, squeezing and choking while the prisoner writhed and struggled frantically. He didn't relent till the struggling ceased and the captive lay under him, still from coming close to losing consciousness, "I'm sorry brother."

"If you were sorry… You'd let me go," he rasped weakly, helpless as the hand squeezed his trachea. He was too weak to struggle as he was choked again, punished for his words. He breathed shallowly, wondering if that man would just continue to choke him, "Is that all you can do?"

"I… You… You brought this on yourself Brother," The captive didn't have a chance to protest as he was lifted up by the man and slammed face-first into a wall. He cried out in pain, struggling weakly as his hands were lifted and encased in heavy shackles. He slumped, held up by the steel chains, but recovering quickly now that he had been allowed to breathe, "Join me."

"Never." He cried out as a whip snapped against his back, startled by the pain. When had the whip been pulled out? Had it even been carried in? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that his shirt was being torn from his back from the force of the blows. It wasn't long till he could feel blood tricking from opening cuts. It took all he had not to scream, biting his lip and filling his mouth with the taste of copper.

"I don't like hurting you brother, but I will if I have to." The man sounded so sad. Like it was his prisoner's fault this was happening. It wasn't. It _wasn't!_ The prisoner just couldn't bring himself to release his lip from his teeth. He was glad that he had been able to withstand pain due to his past as a warrior. The pain receded at the man stopped to speak, "Join me."

"Let me go." He howled when nails dug into his shoulder, arching and twisting in an attempt to flee the pain. He screamed louder as the man raked down across the welts, pulling and ripping the flayed skin away. He closed his eyes as the pain continued. The agony was intense, burning and so horrible. He began to cry, large tears rolling down his cheeks as he struggled futilely. "Let me go!"

"No. You will join me Brother." The man sounded angry, hurt that his prisoner wasn't going to back down and follow him. It would just take more convincing to make the prisoner fold. He licked the crimson liquid coating his fingers off, humming lightly in appreciation at the taste, before smirking. "You are unwell. I will speak to you about this tomorrow."


	2. Branding

He was cold and he ached and his back itched and hurt. His wrists were raw and chafed from being forced to stand all night. He was tired. Bleeding had weakened him. And crying had dehydrated him. What could he do to get away? He would not submit. He couldn't. His stomach gurgled softly, reminding him that he had not had anything to eat in a long time. Maybe this was his punishment today. He began bumping his head against the wall. It made his head ache, a pounding and throbbing hurt, but he continued to do it. Maybe that man would panick and let him go if he showed suicidal tendencies. If not, he would have to endure more torture. He had a feeling that the longer he refused, the longer his torture would become as his captor got annoyed.

"Join me Brother." He continued to pound his head against the wall, ignoring the man. Blood was already trickling from being abraded by the rough tile wall, but he was in his groove. It didn't even hurt as bad as it did earlier. He let his eyes fall closed, resting his head against the wall. He could feel the Man's presence behind him. How long until the man lost his temper?

"Ah!" Not long in fact. He cried out as his back was slapped, _hard_. He writhed in the chains for a moment or too as his back reopened slightly. The man's hands moved to release him, letting him fall with nothing to support him but legs that had already gone numb hours ago. He was lifted easily and dumped onto his bed, mercifully on his stomach. He heard a familiar sound and turned, seeing the man holding a lamp and a brand in his hands. He tried to crawl away, but there was nowhere for him to go. He slumped down and waited for the inevitable. "I am sorry Brother…"

All he could do was wait for the brand to be ready. It didn't take long, the brand turned red from the heat of the small flame. In the mean time, he struggled with the man. Apparently, being reduced to pants and a backless shirt was too modest. Now he was supposed to be wearing just the shirt. There was the sound of ripping fabric and the two pieces of his pants were yanked off his legs. He yelped in pain when the Man sat on his still-damaged back and grabbed the cool part of the metal.

He screamed as the smell of burning flesh filled the room, the brand pressing into his upper thigh and marking him forever. Thankfully the pain, coupled with exhaustion and bloodloss, was enough to let him pass out. He didn't know that his captor had stayed to apply medicine and perform basic first aid before leaving this time. He never felt the loving kiss applied to his bandaged head or the soft whisper, "I will be back tomorrow brother."

All he knew was that he hated that stupid Swastika burned into his leg. He hated that man who had turned his beloved baby brother into a monster. And he hated himself for not being strong enough to win against a man so much younger than himself.


	3. Shooting

He woke to pain and stiffness. His skin was flushed pink with fever, another sign of weakness. He was restrained, but could still look down to see bandaged crisscrossing his thin chest. Most of what he could see-though dirty- was white. Most of the damage had been on his back after all. There was another bandage on his thigh, hiding the brand while it healed. He growled, knowing he would have to hurt himself worse to remove the mark from his body.

"I am glad you are awake Brother," he flinched at the sound of his captor's voice. He no longer corrected the man, too tired to argue. Tired of fighting. It was only fear that kept him going now. Fear of losing what little he had left of himself. The man had no idea what his prisoner had given up to keep them both alive. He had no clue of what would happen if his prisoner gave in and joined him. He repeated his demand, "Join me brother."

"I can't." A brow was raised at the change in his mantra, but he didn't elaborate. A cool metal ring pressed against the fleshy underside of his jaw, forcing him to look up and strain his neck in an attempt to avoid the barrel pressing uncomfortably against it. He stayed silent as he heard a soft click, knowing it may very well be one of the last two sounds he would hear in his life. He barely noticed the metal withdraw from his skin before there was a sharp report and the acrid smell of discharged gunpowder filled the room. He screamed when his shoulder sent alarms up to his brain, his shoulder blade and clavicle ruptured by the metal slug's passage. He writhed helplessly against his bonds, seeking relief from the agony and unable to bring his undamaged arm to press against it like instincts screamed.

"You can end this brother," the man begged quietly, hoping his agonised prisoner would accept his proposal. He was met with soft sobs, his prisoner unable to hold back tears. It broke his heart to see his big brother like this, but it was for the best. He just wanted the best for his big brother, "Just agree to join me and the pain will stop."

"No..." he sobbed, shaking his head. The barrel was pressed to his wounded shoulder. The roar of thunder was drowned out by the agonised wail of the prisoner. His already broken shoulder, further damaged by the second bullet, shrieked in protest. But, despite the pain, he still shook his head. His voice shrill with histeria and agony, he begged for it to end.

"You just have to say one little word brother," the Captor's voice was soothing; hypnotic in its wanted to agree. He wanted the pain to end. But as tears fell and his chest heaved with sobs, he shook his head and looked away. The Captor sighed apologetically, "Then I'm sorry brother."

Fours shots rang out in quick succession; each accompanied by cried of pain that grew ever more shrill. The prisoner sobbed quietly, still conscious, but in so much pain. The Captor finally removed the restraints, but he was too hurt to curl up like he wanted to. He whimpered as he was moved to sit and his captor slowly began to reset the shattered bones; picking out the shards with clumsy hands better suited to carpentry than medicine. He looked at the man, dull eyes shattered by the betrayal of blood, and closed them, letting himself fall into peaceful oblivion.

"I hope you give in before I have to do worse brother," the man whispered softly, sadly, as he got up to retrieve a fresh roll of bandaged. His big brother needed a bath and a haircut soon. His saggy hair was getting long and he was starting to smell like bad blood. He sighed, wondering how long it would be until he would stop fighting the inevitable, "I'm doing this for your own good."


End file.
